Page 72 of Dire Straights

Coach Larson tilted his head at me, staring at me for several seconds before responding. “Well, are you?”

“Excuse me?” Shock washed over me, my response bursting out of my mouth before I could even fully process his words.

“Are you a fag, Holmes?”

“What the fuck does that matter?”

“If you aren’t, then why would it bother you?”

“Maybe I don’t want to be on a team and bond with people who use homophobic slurs?” I said, feeling as though I was stating the obvious.

He inhaled deeply, tapping his fingers on the desk. “I didn’t realize you were so sensitive. I thought we were a men’s team. But if that’s how you feel…”

“That’s how I feel,” I said, in as much of a deadpan tone as I could manage. He was the absolute worst kind of person. My heart was pumping overtime in my chest and I felt like I was breaking out in a cold sweat.

“Alright, then,” he said, shrugging a shoulder. “Let’s go take care of your little problem.” He stood up, opening the door to his office and gesturing for me to walk through it. Even though my blood was whooshing through my veins at breakneck speeds, I did so. He followed closely behind me as we made our way back over to the pool, where the team was lounging around or practicing. “Guys, listen up. New rule.”

Was he really doing what I thought he was doing? I felt dizzy, like the room was spinning around me. I’d never been the kind of guy to bring up team issues, but even I couldn’t have imagined a worse outcome for this conversation.

“It’s been brought to my attention that some of you on the team have been making jokes that others are finding offensive. Let’s keep in mind that not everyone can take a joke, and be more aware of who’s around to be sure we don’t trigger anybody. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Coach.” Garrison, O’Conner, and Ahmet answered him, as well as a couple other of the guys on the team, smirking at each other and scoffing at me. But the rest of the team just looked shocked and confused.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I asked, shaking my head in disbelief.

“I don’t know what you want from me, Holmes,” he said. That stupid fucking smug expression was still painted on his face. “You said you had a problem, and I addressed it with the team. I’ve done my job. You need to do yours.”

“Fuck this,” I spat out at him, whirling on my heel and storming off toward the door.

“If you’re not at the meet tonight, you’re off the team, Holmes. I can’t accommodate your unreasonable behavior any longer,” he called after me.

I didn’t answer, slamming through the gym doors with so much force that they smacked the walls in the hallway.

“You’re not actually going to the meet, are you?” Ren asked, the moment I’d finished telling him what had happened.

“I don’t know.” My voice was muffled against the crook of his neck and shoulder.

“Maddy,” he said, sounding shocked. “You can’t be serious. You’re not thinking of actually staying on the team, are you?”

“No,” I answered. That part I was sure about. “I’m quitting the team.” My dad was just going to have to deal. I couldn’t exactly explain to him why yet, but… I’d figure it out. “But quitting right before a meet is just extra shitty. It’s going to fuck over the guys on the team that didn’t do anything to me.”

“Yeah, but… You can’t let them treat you like that,” he insisted.

“I won’t. I’m just going to swim at the meet, and then I’m done,” I promised. “It’ll be quick and painless, I swear.”

“I don’t know…” He said, tilting my head back so he could stare down into my eyes. “I don’t trust that bastard coach around you anymore.”

“Ren,” I said, a little laugh bubbling out of my mouth despite the tense and unhappy atmosphere. He’d sounded so seriousand bad-ass, like he was going to challenge Coach Larson to a pistol duel at dawn. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“That’s kind of impossible for me, Maddy. I care about you, so of course I’m going to worry.”

The sincere tone of his voice and the genuine concern in his eyes were just too much. Unfolding myself from the little ball I’d crumpled into against his chest, I climbed more securely up onto the bed, lightly pushing him onto his back so I could straddle his hips.

“You’re still coming to the convention center, right?” I asked.

He sighed, obviously aware that I was changing the subject. I could understand his feelings, and I really did appreciate them, but my mind was made up. One last swim, and then I’d be done for good.

“Yeah.”

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